It is that time of the semester. I should be OK. In ten days. I don’t know why my stress is coming out as sadness. Maybe it’s because I’m doing the Baltic Crusades, yrch. I saw Eisenstein’s Alexander Nievsky years ago, freshman year of undergrad, and I remember the nausea and the heart-pain. I’m more inured this time, and while the medieval chronicles are not quite as bad as the Soviets’ portrayal of wild-eyed monks throwing babies on pyres, but it still hurts.
Gosh, why am I in grad school. It’s not like I don’t have enough disappointment in human nature (my own and my heroes) already…. But it’s OK. There is always Jesus. I’ll get through this semester. There are so many dear people in this world. Spring is coming.